


Feel Like I Could Be Driving You All Night, and I'd Find Your Lips in the Street Lights

by kikitheslayer



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Road Trips, Sunrises, Texting, literally the gayest thing i have ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 23:43:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5560435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikitheslayer/pseuds/kikitheslayer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Ginarosa road trip AU we all deserve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feel Like I Could Be Driving You All Night, and I'd Find Your Lips in the Street Lights

**Author's Note:**

> Will I ever write something for these two that isn't the fluffiest shit in existence? Apparently not.
> 
> Also the Frankenstein wax museum is apparently a real thing in New York. I haven't been, but basically everything mentioned was actually talked about in the blurb I read.
> 
> Their titles when they're texting are what they are in each other's phones.

Rosa was sprawled over the covers of her king bed. She was a mess -- sore limbs and hair stuck to her face with drool. Gina was already gone, she noted. She had dance practice early on Sundays.

Her phone chimed next to her, and she rolled onto her back, rubbing her eyes. She reached for it, almost chucking it into the existing dent in her wall before she cracked open her eyes and saw it was from Gina. She pushed herself up and slid into the messaging app.

**Gina, 12:42**

[babe listen]

[i have a problem]

A weight settled in Rosa’s stomach. She went to type a question mark, but three dots had already appeared on Gina’s side of the screen.

**Gina, 12:42**

[see it’s sunday]

[which means ur probs not gonna be awake for like 3 hours]

[which is bad]

[BECAUSE WE’RE ROADTRIPPING, TODAY, STARTING THREE, NO TAKE-BACKS BY READING THIS YOU AGREE]

[oh wait this is only your problem lol]

Rosa sank back down into her pile of pillows.

**2nd queen of my soul after me, 12:43**

[wtf g]

**Gina, 12:43**

[what else do you need to know, really]

**2nd queen of my soul after me, 12:44**

[where are we going. dont we have work. is this an elaborate plan to murder me and dump my body out of state.]

**Gina, 12:44**

[lmao]

[1. WHO CARES 2. i cleared tomorrow for both of us w/ holt like three months ago. said i was taking you on an elaborate vacay to propose lol 3. i could NEVER]

**2nd queen of my soul after me, 12:45**

[i hate you]

[we’re taking your car btw]

**Gina, 12:45**

[Yeep]

[pack some tunes, some food, a toothbrush, like idk two outfits ur a peasant, aand some lingerie just cuz]

[<3<3<3]

**2nd queen of my soul after me, 12:50**

[love you.]

\--

Rosa was ready to go by two thirty, because when Gina was excited about something nothing could stop her. Except the Internet. There was always a forty percent chance she would wind up on Buzzfeed and forget that she'd ever be excited at all.

Luckily, however, Gina pulled up in front of their apartment right on time. She leaned against her car and munched on potato chips while pelting them against the window.

Rosa grabbed her light suitcase, as well as the one she has packed for Gina, and jogged down the stairs to meet her.

“Hey, darlin’,” Gina drawled.

“Hey,” responded Rosa, opening Gina’s trunk and tossing in her stuff. She swung around and got in the passenger seat.

Gina clambered in after her. “You ready?”

Rosa heaved a sigh and rested her head against the window. “If we were going to ditch work, couldn't we have just holed up at home like normal?”

Gina started the car. “Remember when I told you I was going to make you more spontaneous?”

“And I told you not to?”

“And yet here you are.” She laughed. “You're so whipped.”

Rosa sat up and opened the disk player. “What are we listening to?”

Gina reached across Rosa’s lap and rummaged in the glove compartment. “We have your choice of…” She pulled out a zipped-up CD case and tossed it to Rosa.

Rosa flipped through it and finished Gina’s sentence. “...Spice Girls, Beyoncé, Rihanna, Nicki Minaj, Taylor Swift, every boy band from the last century…” Rosa shook her head and put in Adele’s “25.”

“Ew!” cried Gina. “Woman, do you not know how to get pumped?! We're gonna be, like, sobbing on the interstate.”

“Fine,” said Rosa, “what is your definition of pump up music? Eye of the Tiger on repeat for five hours?”

Gina rested a hand on Rosa shoulder briefly. “See, now you're getting it.” She grabbed the case and put in “Emotion.”

“Please buy some good music.”

“Define good.”

“Not Carly Rae Jepsen.”

“Ugh, you’re so boring.”

\--

Pretty soon the two were driving in silence, Rosa half-asleep and Gina only singing along to the radio under her breath so as not to disturb her.

Rosa yawned and sat up. She stretched and asked, “So are you just driving randomly?”

Gina shrugged. “Nope. There’s a supposedly haunted B&B this way.”

Rosa narrowed her eyes. “Your elaborate road trip is to a B&B?”

“Relax, I've got other stuff planned. We’re also gonna see the Frankenstein Wax Museum.”

"That could actually be cool, I guess.”

Gina smiled. “I knew you’d like it. Come on. We’re going to find a place to eat.”

\--

Rosa pointed to a diner at random, so Gina pulled into the parking lot and peered at it from the car.

Rosa said, “Can’t we just go in? I’m starving.”

“I have to make sure this is right for our grand adventure,” said Gina absently. “You should consider yourself lucky I’m not Yelping it. Proves how much I love you that I would put myself out there like that.”

Rosa smiled in spite of herself.

The diner was certainly nothing special. It was wedged between a nail salon and a dry cleaners in a mostly-deserted, concrete shopping center. It was relatively small, and the windows were so dirty they could barely even tell if it was open. There were light-up letters declaring that it was “Annie’s Spot”, with both “N”s burned out.

Something clicked for Gina, and she nodded and got out of the car. She paused again on the sidewalk.

“What?” groaned Rosa.

Gina dug into her pocket. “I’m texting a photo to Charles. That way if we get a flat tire or something, he’ll already be on his way here to help us out.”

“Oh my god, don’t,” said Rosa, reaching a hand out to grab Gina’s arm. “He’s going to send you a bunch of articles about food and sanitation and other boring shit, and then you’ll have to actually read them because he’ll _quiz_ you.”

Gina shrugged and sent the photo. “I hate myself.”

Rosa wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “That just sounds wrong.”

Gina cackled. “Yeah, I was just thinking that.”

\--

Annie’s Spot turned out to be the epitome of greasy spoon. This also turned out to be exactly what Gina was looking for. It was pretty dingy, with grime in the grout between the tiles and spilled salt on the table. There were a few hastily hung posters on the mostly stark walls, showcasing old movies with blurbs underneath about stars who had attended the restaurant decades ago. Rosa said they were most likely bullcrap. Gina told her to live a little and looked on starry-eyed.

Rosa and Gina were wedged in the same side of the booth, Rosa against the wall, and it took Rosa just a moment to remember that it probably looked weird, and even if it didn’t it was still _unnecessary_ \-- when Gina hooked her ankle behind Rosa’s and Rosa decided that _you know what, fine, I’ll deal with it_.

Rosa poured over the menu for half a second before setting it down. Laminated, pictures showing food that was more plastic that edible -- it wasn’t exactly ground-breaking.

Gina, however, kept browsing long beyond what Rosa considered reasonable. “Gina,” she whispered harshly, glancing at the waitress slowly polishing the counter with one eye on them, “what are you doing?”

“Shh,” said Gina, as if Rosa could be quieter, “I’m spying on the waitress.”

Rosa shook her head. “...Why?”

“I’m thinking about leaving you for her,” replied Gina, voice still low. “What do you think?”

Rosa glanced back at the middle-aged waitress -- Samantha, her name-tag said -- and pretended to make a big show of checking her out; bored expression, yellow teeth, and grey-streaked brown hair included.

Rosa sat up and crossed her arms. “Do it,” she said finally. “You’ll be sweet together.”

Gina laughed. “Then I’m ready to order.”

They signaled for Samantha’s attention and ordered: french toast for Gina and a large, American breakfast for Rosa. Gina ordered hot chocolate for them both, said she could use something sweet, and sent an exaggerated wink at the waitress, whose lips flickered with a smile.

When it came, Rosa took a large gulp of her hot chocolate and whipped cream smeared across her upper lip. 

Gina smiled, leaning across the table and grasping Rosa’s hand in hers.

Rosa froze momentarily, but she glanced around the restaurant -- empty, save Samantha and them -- and relaxed, rubbing her thumb across Gina’s fingers.

“Got a little mustache there, Ro.”

Rosa wiped it away roughly with her wrist, a small smile still on her lips.

\--

Both stuffed, Gina signaled for Samantha’s attention. “Can we get a box?” She asked, her head resting on the palm of her hand so that she was looking at the witness through heavy lashes.

Samantha nodded and departed.

Gina reached into her bag and pulled out a pen. She plucked a paper napkin from the dispenser and hunched over it, scribbling something.

“What are you writing?” asked Rosa, leaning over.

Gina tugged it from under Rosa’s gaze. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Rosa grinned and made a last effort to pluck the napkin from Gina, who hugged it close to her chest, laughing, too.

“Here you go,” said Samantha, setting two styrofoam boxes on the table. She rested a hand on her hip. “Need anything else, girls?”

Gina shook her head. “I’ve got something for you, actually.” She handed her the napkin with a flourish, and Rosa leaned around her to carefully watch Samantha’s reaction.

The waitress took a moment to read the napkin and gave a toothy grin. “Afraid I’m taken, love.” She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and winked. “But I’ll text you if it changes.”

Gina beamed. “I love road trips,” she giggled, twirling a finger through her hair.

Rosa just smiled at her.

“Be back in a minute,” Samantha said, taking their now-empty plates back to the kitchen. When she came back she handed the check to Gina, who paid, tipped, and wrote “Don’t forget! ;)” on the receipt in her loopy handwriting.

\--

Rosa took over driving. Gina let her play one of her punk CDs. Halfway through the second song Gina started singing along at top volume and responded to Rosa’s surprised look with a raised eyebrow. “Gotta keep you on your toes, babe.”

Everything was perfect.

\--

Then they got to the bed and breakfast.

“I’m not going in there.” Rosa’s arms were crossed, and she was leaning against the car door with no intention of moving.

“Come on,” whined Gina, attempting to pull Rosa toward the building.

“No,” insisted Rosa through gritted teeth. “You promised me haunted. That looks Amy’s living room banged a Claire’s.”

“Okay so it’s a little… frilly. If it helps, I think you’ve asserted your dominance already. The way you dropped your suitcase and backed up muttering “no” was real assertive.”

Rosa grabbed Gina’s hand. “Hey. We’ll sleep in your car. It’s cool. It’ll be like camping or some shit.”

Gina stepped closer, swinging their hands and placing a finger on Rosa’s chest. “We both hate camping, my flower.”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

Gina looked up to meet her eyes, her gaze steely.

Rosa sighed.

\--

One hastily drawn up “nickname banning” form later, they were in the lobby. Rosa was standing by the door looking ready to make a break for it. Gina was talking to the woman at the desk.

Finally she walked back to Rosa, brandishing two pamphlets and a room key. “Let’s go.”

\--

Their room on the second floor was Rosa’s exact nightmare. The bedspread was patterned in flowers and lace trimming. The window above the bed had frilly, yellow, polka-dotted curtains. There was no TV, but there were antique dolls, tea-cups, and vases of flowers on nearly every surface. She was pretty sure there was at least one cat somewhere in the room.

Gina, for her part, was loving it. She had added about five selfies to Instagram, most of them alluding to a ghost, and at least one with Rosa’s disgusted face and the caption, “who is she.”

Finally content with her social media presence, Gina put her phone to sleep and flopped on the bed, an arm under her head.

Rosa laid down next to her. “What are the fliers?”

Gina held up a blue pamphlets. “First one’s on the hotel -- boring.” She tossed it into the trash can on the other side of the room. She squealed gleefully, rubbing her hands together. “Second’s on the ghost.”

She held it up so that they could read without sitting up. The cover was purple with the words “Lady of the Estate” typed in slanted, white letters above a black and white photograph of a woman in a dark, polka-dotted period dress sitting at a piano. Her fingers hovered just above the keys.

Gina flipped it open and ran a finger down the page. It was all about the legend of a woman who had owned the place and perished tragically -- although how, it didn’t say -- as well as accounts of supposed eye witnesses.

Rosa was now thoroughly interested. “How do you think she died?”

Gina poked her in the side. “Since when do you believe in ghosts?”

Rosa shrugged. “I don’t. I believe in the gruesome murders of rich, 1800s women.”

“Well _I_ believe in ghosts,” declared Gina. She raised her voice. “You out there, Rich 1800s Woman of the Estate?”

There was no answer.

Gina sighed and rested the pamphlet on her chest. “Maybe she’s shy.”

“Maybe she got hit with an ice pick.”

“Okay, I was going to say you might have to hold me, but now I’m not sure if I want that.”

“Bullshit,” said Rosa fondly, “you would never say that. You’re probably gonna dump me for the ghost, too.”

Gina smiled, staring at the ceiling. “I am a friend to the spirits.” She turned, so that her and Rosa’s noses were an inch apart. “But my friend doesn’t seem very forthcoming. And I mean, 1800s -- how many times do you think she’s seen two hot women getting it on? We should do her a favor.”

Rosa sat up and pulled off her top, shaking her head. “You will say the weirdest shit to get laid.”

“Au contraire, dear, I say weird shit. It just so happens to often get me laid.” She shrugged. “I have a weird girlfriend.”

\--

“Baby,” whispered Gina, leaning down so her lips were almost touching Rosa’s ear, “you gotta get up or I’m leaving without you.”

Rosa grimaced and buried her face deeper into the pillow. “It’s like five, let me live.”

“We have to hit the road,” said Gina. “And we gotta get in the car now so you’re awake enough to watch the sunrise with me.”

Rosa rolled over, scrubbing at her face. “What kind of gay shit is that?”

Gina put a hand on her hip. “There’s coffee downstairs, and since you refused to unpack, we’re good there.”

Rosa heaved a sigh. She shifted so she was sitting over the edge of the bed and began pulling on yesterday's clothes. “I gotta brush my teeth. Get me coffee?”

“What are we, dating?” Gina sneered.

Rosa glared.

“Okay! Okay, I’m going!”

\--

Soon, they were in the car again. Gina was driving, and Rosa was beside her, nursing a coffee. She was still grumpy, but less-so.

“There it is!” cried Gina suddenly.

“What?” asked Rosa.

“The sun!” Gina said. She pulled over and got out of the car.

“Gina, what the hell--” began Rosa, getting out herself.

Gina shushed her. “Look.”

Rosa leaned against the car next to Gina and looked at the pink light just starting to light the grey sky. Rosa said haltingly, “It’s-- pretty.”

Gina leaned against her, resting her head on Rosa’s shoulder. “You know what else is pretty?”

Rosa took a sip of coffee. “Mm?”

“Me.”

Rosa laughed, deep in her belly and wrapped an arm around Gina, who nuzzled closer. 

Rosa didn’t put much stock in the value of sunrises, or nature, or being up early, but standing there brought to mind mornings she had nearly forgotten, back when she would get up early to stretch on the wooden floor of her ballet academy dorm, watching the new light streaming through the glass windows. Everyone else in the room was asleep, and it was peaceful. Her own. It made everything feel more real, and manageable, and she felt it to the tips of her toes. 

Right then she felt the same sensation, except the thing that felt real was the warm body pressed up to her, and sharing it was so much better than it had ever been on her own. “I love you,” Rosa said, swallowing the lump in her throat she still couldn’t quite shake, no matter how many times she coaxed out the words.

Gina, no longer watching the scenery, smiled against her neck. “Sunrises do make people sappy.”

“I know. I hate everything about this.”

“Nuh-uh,” said Gina, “you love me.”

“Meh.”

“I love you, too.”

Rosa was silent. She pressed a kiss to the top of Gina’s head and watched the sun light up the clouds.

\--

“This is amazing,” cried Rosa over the recorded shrieks piercing the dark room of the wax museum.

Gina inspected a wax figure dripping wax blood. She turned and pointed to a sign. “That says there’s an exhibit called the “Amazing Room of Rats.”

“I want to move here.”

Gina wrapped her arms over her chest. “This is the most you’ve smiled this whole trip. Should I be concerned?”

Rosa shook it off with a wave of the hand. “You knew what you were getting into.” She grabbed Gina’s hand and marched her toward a door at the side of the room. “Come on. The internet says there’s a woman getting literally axed around here, and we’re not leaving til we’ve seen it.”

Gina shuddered, but snapped a photo of one of the models. “Whatever you say, dearest.”

\--

“Jake’s been texting me,” remarked Rosa in the passenger seat, her feet on the dashboard. “Bank robbery. Charles brought cockroach candy in for everybody. The usual stuff.”

Gina groaned dramatically. “I can’t believe we have to go back,” she said. “I need at least another year off before I do any more work.”

“You’re not going to do any work,” replied Rosa mechanically, eyes still locked on her phone. She looked up. “What are you going to tell Holt, anyway? Doesn’t he think we’re getting engaged?”

“I’ve got a plan, don’t you worry. You know he gave me a speech?”

Rosa shuddered. “Want me to punch him?”

Gina considered. “No. Maybe next time. He told me I was like a daughter to him, and he was proud of me, and marriage is a commitment, etc., etc.”

“Sounds terrible.”

“It was.”

\--

“There’s a rest stop,” said Gina, starting to pull over. “Let’s eat lunch.”

They grabbed their leftovers and some food they had packed from the trunk, and then marched through the damp grass to a picnic table.

They ate mostly in silence. The only sounds audible in the empty park were a few birds and the crunching of potato chips.

Gina opened her mouth and closed it again. “So,” she started. “I--” She stopped. There was a fluttering in her chest that she really had not anticipated. 

“You okay?” asked Rosa, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

“I’m good,” said Gina. She swallowed and made her voice brighter. “I have something for you.” She reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out a folded napkin. She handed it to Rosa and waited

In sharpie on the napkin was an arrow, and below that the words, “I am proposing to this perfect specimen of a woman and she doesn’t know it yet. Can U believe it!!! P.S. Pretend I gave you my phone # she thinks I’m pretend-flirting w/ U kthxbai.”

Rosa eyes widened as she read it. She licked her lips. It took a firm talking-to from her brain to her nerves to stop her hands from shaking.

When Rosa looked up, Gina was watching her closely. “She slipped it back to me with the bill,” the brunette explained. Then, she said softly, “The grass is wet. I’m not getting on my knees unless I know you’ll say yes.”

Rosa was pretty sure if she tried to speak she wouldn’t be able to, so she just nodded.

Gina beamed and slapped a hand on the splintery wooden table. “Okay! Give me a minute.”

She grabbed a paper bag she had carried from the car and dashed toward the public restrooms. Rosa rolled her eyes. It was ridiculous. It was Gina. At least this way she would get a chance to work on getting the lump out of her throat. She drank some water.

\--

Gina full-on sprinted out of the bathroom, and slid a little getting down on one knee in front of where Rosa was standing. 

Gina had apparently rushed off to hastily pull on a tux and cue up dramatic music on a portable speaker. She was clearly going for somber, but she already knew the answer and couldn’t stop smiling, so Rosa guessed she was failing pretty badly.

“Rosa Diaz,” Gina announced, opening a small velvet box, “you are a badass, scary, hot-as-anything policewoman.”

Rosa nodded in agreement, an embarrassingly large smile already plastered to her face.

“You are also angry, terrified of commitment and actual human emotions, and you have read not one but _every_ Twilight novel. Including the gender-swapped one. _No one_ read the gender-swapped one.”

Rosa shrugged. “Stop pissing me off during your proposal. And werewolves are hot.”

“Babe, we’ll fight later.” Gina swallowed and found her place again. “You're not an easy person to get to know. And neither am I. We've both got so much _weird_ shit. And I... love that. I love that you're you, and I'm me, and that that we know each other more than anyone else. And I don’t want to let anyone else into my weird shit, not when I could have the aforementioned hot, scary, badass policewoman.” She paused. “So, Rosa Diaz, woman that I love. Will you marry me?”

Rosa smirked. “Let me think about it.”

“Asshole.”

Rosa bit her lip. “Okay,” she said finally, nodding. “Yeah. Yes. Definitely.”

In one motion, Gina stood up, jumped forward, grabbed the front of Rosa’s shirt and pressed their lips together. She pulled back. “I love you.”

Rosa wrapped her arms around Gina’s torso. She took a deep breath. “Gina, I-- I want to marry you. And that’s the scariest thing I’ve ever said to anyone, ever, so I might pass out. If I do, I love you, don’t go through my phone, I’ll marry you when I come to.”

Gina slid her hands into Rosa’s hair. “Please. I need at least a year to plan the wedding.”

“And that’s the scariest thing I‘ve ever heard.”

Gina kissed her again.

\--

The 99 held a party. Gina was holding Rosa’s hand high above their heads when they stepped into the bar, prominently displaying the glittering ring Rosa was wearing, as well as her own. Because of course she’d bought herself a ring, too. After the applause died out, Gina yelled, “It is possible, guys! Who owes me ten bucks? Please pay up so I can dump this loser.”

Rosa shoved her lightly on the arm.

Before the night was over, they had received a joint Holt speech. They had seen every stage of drunk Amy, including the newfangled “seven drink Amy,” aka “sentimental Amy,” aka “‘You guys are so-- so _beautiful_! All my friends are so beautiful. I love you guys.” Charles had apparently already written his speech, and he read them half, leaving the other a surprise. Jake declared that this made Rosa his sister and totally cried. Terry hugged them both, and Gina looked a little too happy about it for Rosa’s liking. (At least, until Gina turned and kissed her on the cheek.) Scully and Hitchcock had apparently been bribed to just shoot them thumbs-up from the other side of the bar, which was honestly the best present they could have received.

After the party they all walked to Jake and Amy’s apartment, which was closest, and in the early hours of the morning, they stood on their balcony, sleepy and laughing, and watched the sunrise. Rosa was at the front of the pack, her fiancee hugging her and gently swaying from side to side, and she rescinded her previous statement.

Now life was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I'm bridgetandbell on tumblr, you can find me screaming about Ginarosa at literally any hour of the day.
> 
> Title from "Run Away with Me" by Carly Rae Jepsen.


End file.
